


The Day the World Stopped Turning

by hemingwaysgirl



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Father Figures, Father-Son Relationship, Feels, Flashbacks, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Happy Ending, Healing, Heavy Angst, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Howard Stark's Bad Parenting, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Health Issues, Not Canon Compliant, Past Character Death, Peter Parker Feels, Peter Parker Has Anxiety, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Poor Peter Parker, Poor Tony Stark, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Tony Stark, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Sad Peter Parker, Symbolism, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Angst, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Has Daddy Issues, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 02:47:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15899340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hemingwaysgirl/pseuds/hemingwaysgirl
Summary: December 16th is a day that both Tony and Peter wish they could forget. Can they open up about their similar tragedies and begin to heal or will they continue to suffer in silence?





	The Day the World Stopped Turning

For the majority of the population, December is a happy time – a month filled with holiday cheer and child-like anticipation for the celebration of Christ’s birth. The days leading up to this glorious day are decorated with twinkling lights and Christmas trees of various shapes and sizes. Ornaments hang among the green branches – each one carrying a distinct aura of blessed memories. Negative emotions associated with the holiday are rare, but for those who have lost loved ones during this time of cheerful giving and family gatherings, trying to find joy among the sense of despair is almost impossible.

 

Peter knows this first-hand.

 

On December 16th 2016, when Peter was 14, Death had emerged from the shadows of an alley, taking the life of his Uncle Ben.

 

If Peter hadn't been a typical teenager and refused to take out the trash, Ben wouldn't have even set foot in that area.

 

If Peter had just listened and completed the simple chore, the muggers would've attacked him and he would've been able to easily get away with his newly acquired powers.

 

Peter Parker had inadvertently pushed a man who had loved him like a son into Death's inescapable path.

 

And he will never forgive himself for being a catalyst that led to his uncle's demise.

 

 ***

 

On the first anniversary since that day, the guilt prevents him from allowing Aunt May to comfort him. He doesn't deserve it. He forces himself to spend the morning and afternoon with her – just to lift her spirits and console her, but as soon as she turns in early for the night due to a migraine, he sprints out the door.

 

Peter seeks refuge in the only place that can provide temporary distraction from his grief – Stark Tower.

 

Surprisingly, he makes it there on time – 5:00 on the dot. Peter is so grateful that Tony decided to turn the fake internship into a reality.

 

However, as soon as Peter Parker crosses the threshold into Tony's workshop, a sense of wrongness floods his system – almost knocking him down with its intensity. He inhales shakily, and gasps as the air slices through his stuttering lungs. The storm clouds brewing outside seem to seep through the walls of the lab, darkening the normally carefree atmosphere.

 

Fear drives Peter forward and he sighs in relief when he sees that Tony looks okay physically. He is hunched over a table stripping a set of wires. But something seems off in his posture.

 

Peter slowly approaches the billionaire. “Tony?” he asks softly, his voice wavering with concern.

 

The older man stiffens but doesn't turn around. His shoulders shudder as he inhales sharply.

 

“Did you not get my text, kid? I told you not to come in today,” he replies, his tone unusually gruff.

 

Peter automatically dives into his backpack for his starkPhone, not really surprised to find the screen unresponsive and dark. “I forgot to charge my phone again. Sorry,” he mumbles sheepishly.

 

The usual snarky response doesn't come, and Peter's worry amplifies. “Are you okay?”

 

A heavy silence follows his question, and the teen hears the engineer's breath catch. He walks forward until he's standing beside Tony. He tries to get a glance at his face, knowing that his expressive brown eyes always reveals any emotions hiding underneath his usual aloof exterior. But Tony avoids his gaze.

 

“You know you can talk to me, right?” Peter asks gently. “I don't expect you to be Mr. Stark all the time. It's okay to just be Tony.”

 

“Look, kid. I don't _want_ you here, and I don't _need_ some fumbling teenager to _help_ me, so kindly go web up some bad guys and leave me alone!” Tony demands in a harsh whisper.

 

Peter flinches at the hostility in his mentor's voice, his already vulnerable state crumbling underneath the harsh tone. He blinks back the tears blurring his vision. He deserves it. He deserves the anger directed toward him. Retribution for his sins is to be expected.

 

Peter is pulled from his thoughts at Tony's hiss of pain. A stray wire has sliced across his palm, leaving a deep gash in the battered flesh. The blood pools into a puddle on the steel table – the teen marveling at how the bright red clashes with the gloomy gray surface.

 

Red is the color of redemption and hope during the Christmas season.

 

But for Peter, it is simply the color of death.

 

The workshop blurs in and out of focus, and suddenly Peter finds himself back in the alley, holding his uncle as blood spills around his scrawny fingers. He uses his enhanced strength to put enough pressure on the wound to try and stem the bleeding. But it isn't enough. He is going to bleed out, and it is Peter's fault.

 

“No, no, Uncle Ben – stay with me, please!” Peter begs, tears streaming down his face.

 

Ben's own blood-stained fingers wrap around Peter's, a peaceful smile tugging at his lips. “Peter, I love you, and I know without a double that you will change the world with this gift you have been given. Just remember, son, with great power comes great responsibility.”

 

***

 

Tony wishes he could take back the heated words as soon as they tumble out of his mouth, but the damage is already done. Nausea explodes in his gut as he replays his outburst in his head, and he gags slightly at how much he had sounded like Howard.

 

Howard, whose whole life revolved around inventing mediocre technological devices to aid him in finding Captain America.

 

Howard, who saw his child as nothing more than a nuisance, a distraction that hindered him from bringing the all-American hero back to the world.

 

Howard, who never told his son that he loved him and who died along with his mother at the hands of a brainwashed James Barnes thinking Tony hated him.

 

Suddenly, all he can see is the Winter Soldier's silver mechanical arm slamming his dad into the car and strangling his mother to death. His mother's desperate scream echoes in his ears, and all he can think is “Not my mom. No, please not her, too.”

 

The steel worktable swirls in his vision, transforming into the prosthetic murder weapon.

 

He doesn't feel it as the sharp wire cuts into his skin. He simply blinks sluggishly as the blood drips on the shimmering metal arm.

 

A strangled “no” snaps him back to the current moment – the table coming back into sharp focus. He jerks his head to the side just in time to see Peter sink to the floor.

 

Disjointed words spill from the teen's trembling lips.

 

“My fault... No, Ben! st-- stay with... me – ca--can't lose you.”

 

Peter chokes on the last word, and it breaks Tony's heart. How could he have forgotten that the anniversary of his parents' death coincided with a similar moment in Peter's life?

 

How could he have been so selfish?

 

He crouches next to the trembling kid and wraps an arm around him, basically pulling him into his lab. The kid jerks back to himself – confusion evident in his tense posture.

 

“M—Mr. Stark?” he mumbles, hope filling his small voice.

 

“Yeah, kid. I've got you.” He shifts into a more comfortable sitting position, pulling Peter closer to his chest. The teen melts into the embrace – a sigh of relief escaping him.

 

Dum-E beeps at his side – balancing a clean cloth and first-aid kit precariously in his claw. A flare of pain shoots through his hand, and Tony suddenly notices the blood drying along his hand and arm. The wound has mostly clotted but continues to bleed sluggishly.

 

***

 

Peter grabs the items and gently tugs the engineer's hand down until it's laying palm-up on his jean-clad leg. Using a disinfectant wipe, he wipes the blood away as if it never existed. He pats the wound dry with the cloth before applying antibacterial ointment and a sterile piece of gauze.

 

Satisfied, Peter releases his grip and places the hand against his own stomach, reassured by its warmth that Tony is whole and will not disappear on him.

 

“Bruce may need to look at that. In case you need stitches,” he murmurs softly.

 

“I know, Pete. Thanks,” he replies, nuzzling the kid's curls with his chin. “I don't know what I'd do without you.”

 

Peter's heart soars at the sincere admission, and he feels content for the first time since his uncle's death. Before he can reply, Tony continues.

 

“My parents were murdered 26 years ago today. I just found out about a year ago that Hydra had designed their death to look like a car accident. It's something I don't really talk about – to anyone. But you deserve to -- you deserve to know that you're not alone.”

 

Tony tightens his hold on Peter and clears his throat. “You'll never be alone again.”

 

Peter's fear simmers down until it's a mere kindling flame and therefore more bearable. Tony's here. He's not leaving. And he understands how painful it is to lose a loved one at the hands of another while being powerless to stop it.

 

Peter feels his grief lessen significantly. The despair no longer weighs him down, because he has someone to help him carry the load.

 

As he drifts off to sleep, Peter knows that things will get better from here.

 

Tomorrow will dawn the same as today. However, for the two orphaned souls, the sunrise will chase away the remnants of grief as their broken spirits mend and healing begins.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! Leave kudos if you liked my fic and/or drop a line to tell me what you think. Only constructive criticism, please! Have a wonderful day and take care of yourselves! :)


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